Balloons, Cakes and Demons
by foscari
Summary: The sisters must rescue Chris from the hands of an evil hag and Leo finds out something from his past that is linked to the incident. DISCONTINUED.
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer: Charmed is owned by Constance M. Burge and WB.**

Balloons, Cakes and Demons  
  
Teaser  
  
The birthday party which took them weeks to plan and execute to such perfection was ruined. The crimson and gold banner that was hanging on the wall was now hanging limply in half, the other half melted away by the acid. The table that was holding the food and drinks had been turned upside down during the surprise attack, spilling everything on the floor. Party streamers lay strewn on the floor in bits and pieces, torn by the demon's claws. The party hadn't even started yet, and already it was in shambles, no thanks to the demon.  
  
"I swear," Paige Matthews said from her hiding place behind the couch. "The demons are just deliberately trying to annoy us by popping up whenever we celebrate something."  
  
"They must have a radar or something," her sister, Phoebe Halliwell, called back from the other side of the room, behind the grandfather clock. She yelped as a gob of sizzling black goo landed centimeters from her hand. It ate through the floorboards.  
  
A loud explosion told them their eldest sister was mad as a raging bull and had just blown something up. Paige hoped it was the demon when she peeked out from behind her spot.  
  
The demon jumped right in front of Paige with a loud thud, its clawed feet splintering the floorboards as it craned its head towards her and its yellow reptilian eyes staring at her unblinkingly. Its breath was enough to make her choke. Its saliva dripped from its jaws to the floor, burning away the wood. Her body seemed to be paralyzed by her sudden shock at it being so close to her.  
Paige simply blinked at it, her mind frozen as well.  
  
"Paige!" Phoebe shouted, darting out from behind the clock, running towards her sister. She used the couch as a springboard to jump into the air and roundhouse kick the demon on its head, snapping its head back. Without missing a beat, she grabbed her sister's arm, yanked her from the floor, and propelled the two of them into the next room.  
  
"Thanks," Paige said breathlessly.  
  
They heard a loud blood-curdling howl from the parlor and sounds of loud thumps as the demon followed them. A scream followed the howl. This one was more familiar.  
  
"Piper," they both said at the same time that they heard another explosion.  
  
"Leo!" They heard their sister yelled for her husband.  
  
Paige grabbed her hand and they orbed into the sunroom, plastering themselves behind the wall, keeping well away from view. The demon was persistent and incredibly mad. It somehow knew just how to track them down, no matter where they went.  
  
"You'd think it was a bloodhound," Paige whispered to Phoebe who shushed her.  
  
There was silence for several heartbeats. Warily, Phoebe poked her head around the wall, seeing nothing before her. Still holding Paige's hand partly to soothe her jumpy nerves and to orb out quickly, she made her way around the wall, eyes darting left and right for the demon. She wished they knew what it was, whether it needed a Power of Three spell or a potion.  
  
It had suddenly flashed into the manor as they were finishing up with the decorations and spat acid at them. Piper had yelled for Leo to take the boys away. They hadn't counted on the second one to flashed in after the first demon and track the Elder.  
  
So far, Piper couldn't seem to blow it up or hurt it badly. They were halfway into the dining room when they heard a loud crash and a cry of pain. Not needing to look, they sprinted into the living room to see a dazed Piper on the floor and the demon before her.  
  
It was now frothing at the mouth, looking very much like a hairless, wrinkled, rabid dog.  
  
"Hey, you!" Phoebe shouted to distract it.  
  
It turned its head towards her, eyes burning. It opened its mouth, spitting out a gob of acid towards her. Phoebe ducked down, watching as it splattered on the wall and went through. She laughed nervously, backing away. "Hehe, nice demon."  
  
The melodic sounds of orbs drew everyone's attention to the foyer where two forms solidified into two small boys: Wyatt and Chris.  
  
"Oh no," Paige exclaimed. "Where's Leo?"  
  
The demon's attention was now on the boys. In a blink of an eye, it leapt over the furniture, its limbs propelling it forward on all fours too fast for the sisters to stop. Piper screamed in terror and rage, throwing out her hands in attempt to stop the demon but missing. The potted plant shattered instead.  
  
Wyatt calmly looked up at the beast lunging towards him and orbed out of harm's way. Chris stood rooted to the spot, staring at it, as if mesmerized.  
  
"Paige, do something!" Phoebe yelled.  
  
"Chris!" Paige motioned, orbing her nephew over to her arms.  
  
The demon, unable to stop, crashed into the stairs, breaking the banisters and the side table. It landed in a stunned heap on the floor.  
  
Piper had run up to her sisters just as Wyatt orbed in. She scooped up her son in her arms. "Orb us to the attic now!" she demanded.  
  
Paige obeyed without a word, placing a hand on Phoebe's shoulder and Phoebe taking her sister's arm, orbing them all up to the attic just as the demon stirred.  
  
In the attic, they found the reason why Leo hadn't come. He lay unconscious on the floor, nearly buried under the pieces of broken table and the books. A pile of ash nearby indicated he had taken care of the second demon that had trailed him and the boys to the attic just now. The boys had probably seen their father go down and orbed downstairs to try and get help.  
  
"I wish we had his firepower now," Paige said, placing Chris on the floor, hurrying to the stand. She began to flip the Book's pages frantically to find the demon.  
  
Piper and Phoebe were checking on Leo. Piper patted his face to wake him. "Leo, Leo! Get up!" she commanded to no avail.  
  
"He's knocked out cold," Phoebe commented.  
  
"I know that." Piper got up. "And I got guests about to arrive for a birthday party and instead of a birthday party, they're going to find a rabid, drooling demon in the house!"  
  
"That'll make a great party opener," Phoebe remarked.  
  
"Yes, since it'll be spitting acid on everyone!" Piper snapped, in no mood to deal with her sister's dodgy sense of humor.  
  
The demon suddenly flashed into the attic, taking the sisters by surprise, and was now growling and spitting at them. Paige orbed over to Leo, placed a hand to his chest, and orbed them behind the couch for safety. She wouldn't want her brother-in-law to be eaten by acid. From behind the couch, she called for the Book, not wanting it to melt away to noting.  
  
Piper dove out of the way when the demon started its spitting. Phoebe toppled the round scrying table over, using its surface as a shield until she could think of a better hideout. In the confusion, the boys were left to their own defenses. Piper seemed to realized a split second too late when the demon rounded on them, saliva dripping from its massive maw.  
  
"No!" Piper shouted, dashing to her boys. "Wyatt, danger!"  
  
Wyatt's shield came up, but Chris was too far to be covered in the bubble. The younger boy cast a look at his brother, seeming to know what was going to happen.  
  
"Chris, orb!" the older boy called.  
  
Chris orbed but he was a second too late when the demon grabbed his lights and forced him back into solid form. The toddler turned to his brother for help but there was nothing Wyatt could do.  
  
"Wyatt," Chris said before the demon flashed out from the attic.  
  
"No! No!" Piper fell to the spot where her son had been seconds before, terror, rage and anguish on her face. "Chris!" she screamed, chest heaving, tears pricking at her eyelids before they dripped onto the carpet. She pounded at the floor. "Chris."  
  
Paige and Phoebe stood rooted in their spots, helplessness on their faces. As one, they approached Piper to offer comfort but no words seemed to come out.  
  
Wyatt watched the entire scene solemnly.

TBC...


	2. Part 1

Balloons, Cakes and Demons  
  
Part 1  
  
The demon had flashed to the edge of a woods. The pupils of its eyes dilated to allow it to see better in the darkness. It adjusted its grip on the child in its jaws, careful not to drip its acidic saliva on him. It did not want the child to be harmed. It made its way into the woods.  
  
The trees reached high up into the sky, their thick foliage covering the ground below in darkness. Here and there, tiny patches of light could be seen. No plants grew on the floor. The woods were devoid of any chatter from small animals or the chirps of birds. Nothing good lived here. Dry leaves crackled under the demon's feet as it padded along a path, navigating itself around the trees, across a small stream with foul smelling water, and through the underbrush.  
  
A cottage of sorts stood in the center of the clearing. The demon sniffed the air and trotted in its direction. The hut was made out of hundreds, perhaps thousands of white, gleaming bones held together by magic. A doorway suddenly opened up for the demon to enter.  
  
Inside was dank and musty, and the air smelled of death and decay. Brittle bones littered the floor, crunching and snapping in the silence as the demon made its way to the room at the back of the hut. As it approached the entryway to the back room, it could hear the wails coming from it. It went inside, dropping the child on the floor roughly, and stepped back, sitting down on its haunches.  
  
The room was the only one with light. Flames danced and crackled from the bone-made grate. Above it, a cauldron bubbled with something thick and foul, the very smell nearly making the demon's eyes water. At the end of the room were wooden cages holding several children who were crying. Some were in shock, rocking back and forth, their arms around their bodies. Their clothes were torn and ripped in some places, their faces were smudged with dirt and dried blood.  
  
One of the shadows moved, stepping away from the wall, turning into a solid form of an elderly woman. The children who were in the wooden cages let out louder cries when they saw her. She reveled in the scent of their fear. It made their flesh even more tender.  
  
"What do we have here, my pet?" she said to the demon, waltzing over to the child her demon had brought back.  
  
The newest addition brought by the demon blinked up at her without a trace of fear in the bright green eyes. The hag could smell the powers in the child. There was far more magic in this child than those scrawny brats in the cages. She bent down to eye level, her long plait streaked with grey falling over one shoulder. Her cold, pale eyes raked over the child hungrily.  
  
"Such an adorable baby," she cooed, reaching out with a wrinkled, spotted hand. Fingernails as sharp as knives trailed down the chubby cheek, hard enough to draw blood. The child barely flinched.  
  
"Very brave as well," she mused, bringing up her hand to her mouth, tasting the blood on her fingertips. "Sweet like honey indeed."  
  
"You've done well, my pet," she crooned to the demon, patting it on the head. "Of course, the older child would have been better. Much more magic in him but this one will do."  
  
The demon growled.  
  
"Yes, he will do very nicely indeed."

* * *

"Okay, this bites," said Paige, frustration clear in her tone as she threw up her hands. "There is nothing in here on the demon! Nada. Zilch."  
  
"You've only been looking for ten minutes," Phoebe pointed out from her position on the floor. The scrying table which she had used for cover had been partially eaten away by the acid. She decided to make do with the floor, spreading the city map, a national map, and a world map before her side by side. She held the crystal above them, hoping it will drop to a location soon.  
  
"I looked through this Book before now, and let me tell you, we seriously need to update this antique." Paige turned back to the 'antique' once more, flipping the pages.  
  
Phoebe held back a smile. No matter how many times they declared the Book useless, they always came back to it for details. She had lost count of how many times she had called it useless whenever she couldn't find anything on a demon that attacked or when she found something that she already knew.  
  
"Anything on the crystal?" Paige asked, after a moment of silence, punctuated by the turning of a page.  
  
"Nothing. It's like they just disappeared from the face of the earth." Phoebe shook her head. Her arm was beginning to get tired. She switched hands.  
  
"That or it took him to the Underworld," Paige said wisely. "Unless it surfaces again, we probably won't find it or Chris this way."  
  
Phoebe dropped the crystal on the map, rubbing her face with her hands. She was feeling just as frustrated as her sister. She didn't even need her empathy to know.  
  
"We need more resources," she said absently, sitting back, staring at the maps. "If the demon is not in the book, then where are we going to find more information about it?"  
  
"Resources... resources..." Paige was half listening to her sister when something came to her mind. It was right on top of her head, only she couldn't quite put it together yet.  
  
"It's not like we have a whole lot of other resources to use except for the Book and Leo," Phoebe was saying. "Unless, we have a stash of books hiding around here that just happen to be about demons who kidnap babies."  
  
"Books..." Paige's face lit up. "Books! That's it!"  
  
"That's what?" Phoebe asked, seeing her sister's excitement.  
  
"Books!"  
  
"Books," Phoebe echoed slowly. "You mind slowing down here and explaining?"  
  
"Magic School has tons of resources we can use," said Paige quickly, closing the Book. "I can orb there and find something about our little demon in the library."  
  
"Paige, that is brilliant." Phoebe got up, dusting off her pants. "I'll come with you."  
  
The sisters were about to orb out when they heard the doorbell rang. They stared at each other in puzzlement. Who would be coming at a critical time like this? When the doorbell rang the second time, realization dawned on them belatedly.  
  
The party!

TBC...


	3. Part 2

Balloons, Cakes and Demons  
  
Part 2  
  
Piper sat in the rocking chair of the nursery, watching as Wyatt played quietly in his bed. Earlier in the attic, she had cried for several minutes before drying her tears and waking Leo up forcefully by dumping cold water over him. It was harsh, she knew, but she needed answers and to vent. He was good at answering and good for venting on. After he orbed Up There to try and get some more information, she left her sisters in the attic to figure out what demon it was. She couldn't deal with anything at the moment.  
  
If Barbas were here, he would have been thrilled at the fear radiating off her. Fear of failure as a mother, fear for the safety of her baby boy, fear of not being able to save him in time. She didn't want to go downstairs to see the remains of the ruined party and she didn't want to be in the attic with her sisters. Sure, they meant well with their assuring words and looks but she needed to be alone. Which was how she found herself in the nursery.  
  
What she really wanted was to go after the demon that took her son and vanquish him over and over until he was nothing but a burnt mark on the floor. That was what she wanted to do.  
  
"Chris can't come back, Mommy."  
  
She lifted her head, staring at Wyatt in surprise. "Wh-what?" she said.  
  
"The demon took Chris to somewhere far," the toddler continued, playing with his toys. He showed no emotion on his face to indicate whether he was worried or afraid. He had never been the emotional child. "Chris can't come back."  
  
"Why do you say that, sweetie?" she asked, stopping her rocking, looking at him closely.  
  
He met her gaze unwaveringly. It was disconcerting to her that he seemed to know exactly what was going on around them and he understood. He had the intensity that reminded her of someone from the future.  
  
"Because he can't come back. He doesn't know how to get out." Wyatt held her gaze a beat longer, as if to say it was her fault that Chris got into such a predicament.  
  
"Well, when we find him, we'll get him out," said Piper reassuringly. She got up from her chair, crossing the room to his bed. She sat down next to him.  
  
"He's not afraid, Mommy." Wyatt reached for the picture book on his bed, pulling it into his lap. "He knows you're coming for him."  
  
Piper drew in a sharp breath at the words. She placed a hand under Wyatt's chin, tilting his head up. "Do you know where Chris is, Wyatt? Can you sense him?" she asked, not hiding the glimmer of hope in her voice.  
  
"I can't find him, Mommy." Wyatt didn't blink at the disappointment crossing her face.  
  
So much for brotherly bonding. The two got along well most of the time. Of course, Wyatt was entitled to his little fits of jealousy once in a while. Like orbing his brother to the Underworld or halfway across the world to Tibet.  
  
"Of course, I know, sweetie," she said soothingly. She felt a little foolish for thinking perhaps being twice blessed and all, he might be able to sense where Chris was.  
  
Wyatt didn't look perturbed. He simply went back to his picture book, turning the pages, memorizing the names and illustrations of the animals in it.  
  
That was when she heard the doorbell ring.

* * *

"Aw, crap!" Paige exclaimed. She had forgotten about the party. She grabbed Phoebe's hand and orbed them both downstairs, personal gain be damned. The sight of the downstairs forcefully reminded them they hadn't clean up. There was hardly time to pick everything up.  
  
"I told you we should have cleaned it up," Phoebe despaired at the dismal looking banner. The cake had turned to an upside down cake, laying smashed on the floor. The drinks had soaked into the carpet, giving it the most unusual lovely purple Kool Aid color. Paige sniffed and recited her favorite handy dandy spell.  
  
"Let the object of objection become but a dream;  
As I caused the seen to be unseen."  
  
Lights swirled around the rooms, and when they faded, everything was as before. The banner hung in one piece, the cake sat on the table, the single candle in the center and the drinks were on the table instead of in the carpet.  
  
Phoebe didn't share her sister's pleased look, only nodding in approval at the quick thinking. "Ready?" she asked.  
  
Paige nodded and she yanked open the door to reveal their guests plus kids and spouses. All wore bright smiles and were carrying colorfully wrapped packages. Most were Piper's friends.  
  
"Hi! We're here!" Christy chirped.  
  
"Yes, we can see that," Phoebe chirped back, pasting a bright smile on her face.  
  
Their guests needed no invitation, all trooping into the manor. Phoebe thanked heaven that Paige had used magic to clean up the place. The sisters eyed each other and followed their guests to the sitting room where they were all milling about, as if it was their home.  
  
"So, where's the little birthday boy?" Elizabeth asked, looking around.  
  
"That is a good question," Paige said, only to get a jab in her ribs from Phoebe.  
  
"I bet he's excited!" Michelle chimed. "My little Michael is."  
  
"Yes, yes he is." Phoebe's face was starting to hurt from the smiling she was doing. "Unfortunately that excitement is short lived. The, ah, party is canceled."  
  
"Canceled?! Whatever for?" Christy looked like she had been told that someone had just run over her dog.  
  
"Well, because he, um, he... He's got a, ah..." Phoebe fumbled with her excuse. She couldn't think of one right now and was beginning to look very suspicious to their guests. Saying, 'He was kidnaped by an acid spitting demon.' would make her seem like she was ripe for the nearest loony bin.  
  
"A bug!" Paige exclaimed.  
  
"A bug?" Phoebe echoed. She was beginning to sound like a parrot, repeating everything her sister said. Or maybe her pickup was rather slow today.  
  
"Yes, one of those nasty little bugs that comes and bam! You're out for the count," Paige said, sounding proud of herself for her sudden brilliance. She need to pat herself on her back someday. "Poor thing, imagine how he must feel. On his birthday, no less!"  
  
The women clucked their tongues, murmuring among themselves sympathetically.  
  
"That is just too bad for the poor dear," Christy sighed. "Isn't it?" she asked her friends.  
  
They all nodded.  
  
"I hope he recovers from his, um, his... What was it again?" Michelle asked, brow furrowing.  
  
"Stomach virus," said Paige promptly.  
  
"Chicken pox," Phoebe said at the same time.  
  
The two sisters glared at each other.  
  
"Which is it?" Elizabeth asked, puzzled.  
  
"Actually, it's a stomach virus," came a calm voice from the stairs.  
  
The sisters whirled around to see Piper coming downstairs, seemingly calm, carrying Wyatt. She didn't meet their eyes but smiled at her friends, as if she was actually glad to see them.  
  
"Yeah, he just started puking all over the place," Paige threw in for effect.  
  
"He's upstairs sleeping," Piper continued without batting an eyelash at the lie that rolled off her tongue so easily. "Sorry not to have called you earlier, but it just came on so suddenly. Why don't you all leave his presents here and I'll give them to him. Don't want those little ones catching anything now, do we?"  
  
Her friends all agreed, leaving behind the presents and well wishes to Chris before they all piled out the door and left.  
  
"All right, what are you doing?" Phoebe demanded, as soon as their guests all left.

* * *

Leo sighed for the umpteenth time as he waited for the other Elders to finished conferring out of earshot from him at the corner. He had come up here after Piper practically forced him. When he informed them of what happened, there was a slight air of panic from the Elders before they all suddenly huddled together like football players in private conference.  
  
So, Leo had waited as patiently as he could. While they had all the time in the world, he did not. His family couldn't afford to have them dilly-dallying about while Chris could be in grave danger. He shifted in his seat for the tenth time since he sat on the hard, uncomfortable chair. Contrary to popular belief, they did not sit on chairs made of clouds or something cushy. Maybe the others did, but Leo didn't.  
  
It was another ten minutes before the Elders finally finished their little meeting in the corner and came back to him. It was Basil who stepped forward to represent them. The Elder began to speak, informing him of the events that had happened in the last two weeks.  
  
As Leo listened, he could barely contain his temper. He rarely got out of control. That had been only once when circumstances had been different. Right now, it was taking him all his will not to fire bolts of electricity into their thick heads.  
  
"Why did you keep this from us?" he demanded when Basil finished.  
  
"We didn't think it concerned you or the sisters," replied one Elder to Basil's left.  
  
"Didn't think?! That's an understatement!" Leo was close to shouting at them. He restrained himself. "Because of your keeping this from us, it's going to cost my son's life! How dare you keep something this big from us! You could have told us and we could have been more prepared. Now, my son is gone and so are the other kids out there!"  
  
Basil cringed, stepping back hastily to avoid being decked by the throughly angry Elder before him. "Leo, please, try to understand..."  
  
"Understand this," Leo hissed, coming to stand before him, grabbing a fistful of the golden robe. "If anything happens to Chris or Wyatt because of you, you will wish you were recycled."  
  
Without another word or a backward glance, Leo orbed out.  
  
"We should have recycled him when we got the chance," one of the Elders spluttered indignantly. "Ever since that day..."  
  
Basil said nothing, though his eyes betrayed his worries as well.

* * *

"I am done crying, I am done wallowing in misery and I am done doing nothing." Piper placed Wyatt in his playpen in the sunroom. She turned to face her two sisters. "I am going to do something. I am going to find the demon who took my son and vanquish his sorry ass."  
  
"I may have a suggestion about that." Paige smiled, looking pleased as a cat that got its cream. "Magic School has resources on demons that aren't in the Book."  
  
"Well, what are we waiting for then?" Piper held out her hand to Paige, ready for her to orb them all to Magic School. Phoebe had picked up Wyatt. "Chop, chop."  
  
Before Paige could orb, someone else orbed in. It was Leo, and he looked grim.  
  
Piper had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her belly when she saw his expression.  
  
"There's something you all should know," he said somberly.  
  
TBC... 


	4. Part 3

Balloons, Cakes and Demon  
  
Part 3  
  
The sisters were now seated on the couch in the living room. Wyatt had been placed back into his playpen but he was standing at the rail, watching them with all the solemness a two year old could muster. Leo was pacing back and forth from one end of the room to the other and back again. It was, Paige surmised, like watching a tennis match. Back and forth, back and forth.  
  
It was Piper who put him to a standstill. "Leo, stop wearing a hole in my floor and spit it out!" she snapped, impatience clear in her tone.  
  
Leo stopped, turned to face them.  
  
"What did the Elders have to say about our situation?" Phoebe asked, placing a hand on Piper's knee, to calm her sister down. She was a bundle of nerves: anxious, angry, worried, afraid.  
  
"There's been half a dozen children missing for the past two weeks," Leo said instead.  
  
"I didn't see that in the newspapers," Phoebe said, puzzled. "No one in the office said anything about missing kids."  
  
"What does it have to do with Chris?" Piper demanded. She wanted answers now, not needing for Leo to beat about the bush.  
  
"That's because no one knows about it," Leo explained. "It was never published in the newspapers or made known in the news. The parents couldn't tell anyone why their children were missing or how."  
  
"Magical kids," Paige piped up. Her sisters turned to look at her while Leo looked slightly relieved. "I get what you're trying to say. The parents can't say anything because who in the world will believe you if you say your child was kidnapped by a demon."  
  
They fell silent at the revelation.  
  
"So the same one that took Chris took all the other children." Piper said in a quiet tone. "And the Elders... they never mentioned this to us, to you. Why?"  
  
Even Leo couldn't give her a good answer.  
  
"They didn't think it concerns us," he finally said, echoing Basil's word from earlier.  
  
"In simpler words, they don't want us to be involved," Paige said waspishly. "Or they still don't trust us after all we've done? It should be us having the problems with trusting them, after what happened..."  
  
"Because of their refusal to tell us, my son was taken from me! How dare they keep something like this from us, from me! Now, Chris is missing and I don't even know what is happening to him." Piper's tone grew louder and angrier as she talked. "How could they?"  
  
"And that tops the list of why we just so don't like them at all," Paige quipped.  
  
"Paige," warned Piper. She was not in a mood for her sister's usual ill-timed humor today.  
  
"Whether They want it or not, we're still going to do what we always do." Phoebe stood up from the couch. "This is what we do best, protecting the innocent and vanquishing child kidnapping demons. Just forget about them for now."  
  
"Forget about them?" Piper nearly shouted, whirling around to look at Phoebe. It was enough to make even the most brave hearted person quail. "I am not going to forget about what they did. I want to go Up There and blow them all up."  
  
"Technically, you can't vanquish them," Leo said, and suddenly found himself at the brunt of his wife's angry glare. He flinched slightly.  
  
"Phoebe's right, Piper," Paige said, getting up as well. "Just forget about those good-for-nothing, always-sitting-on-cushy-cloud-chairs, we-are-better-than-you-people, doing-nothing-but-twiddling-their-thumbs Elders." She said it all in one breath.  
  
"Wow," said Piper, amazed by it. Even Phoebe looked slightly awed.  
  
Wyatt giggled from his position in the playpen. The toddler clearly thought his aunt was funny today. Leo smiled slightly.  
  
"Hey, you," Phoebe cooed at him. "You got such a sweet laugh, yes you do! You think your Aunt Paige is funny, yes you do!"  
  
"Pheebs, please." Piper rolled her eyes.  
  
"Right." Phoebe grinned sheepishly.  
  
"All I'm saying is forget about them. We can rant about them the next time," Paige continued. "If They won't help us, we need to help ourselves."  
  
"Paige is right," Leo said seriously. "Enough time has been wasted. We need to find the demon that took our son and get Chris back safe and sound."  
  
"The demon's not in the Book," Phoebe said with a shake of her head. "Paige looked from cover to cover and found nothing."  
  
"I had an idea to use Magic School's resources to help us," the youngest sister said. "If the demon's not in the Book, it could be in any one of Magic School's books. We find the demon, we find Chris."  
  
"That's a good idea actually." Leo nodded in agreement. "We'll all go. We can drop Wyatt in the nursery."  
  
Leo took Piper's arm and Paige took Phoebe's hand. Piper was now holding Wyatt against her hip. Brilliant blue lights began to surround both pairs, but then the doorbell rang for the third time that day, halting them.  
  
"What now?" Piper exclaimed.

* * *

"I don't like this," said Darryl Morris for the twentieth time that day.  
  
"Darryl, please." Sheila parked the car by the curb. She could see the manor standing in stark contrast against the blue sky. "We've been through this before."  
  
"And I'll say it again, I don't like this." Her husband crossed his arms and glared at the manor.  
  
"Are you going to stay in the car or come out?" Sheila's patience was running thin at her husband's stubbornness.  
  
Darryl got out of the car reluctantly. His expression showed his discomfort at being near the manor. Nothing good ever came out of being friends with the Halliwells. It was as if they were the harbingers of bad luck to all who came within three feet of them.  
  
"Just drop the present off and go," he told Sheila.  
  
She rolled her eyes at him. "Darryl, we promised to attend the party and we will attend the party."  
  
"No, you promised to attend the party," he corrected. "Not me."  
  
"Just be civil to them, don't mention any arrest warrants or the name Sheridan." Sheila sighed, stepping up to the door and ringing the bell. "Just for once, Darryl, pretend that everything is fine between us. For today."  
  
He looked like he was about to argue it but closed his mouth. "All right, fine. I'll pretend that nothing ever happened between us and smile."  
  
"Thank you." Sheila turned to the door just as it was yanked open.  
  
Paige stood on the other side, looking as she had just seen a two headed duck waddling down the street with its brood. Her brown eyes were round as teacups and opened wide. She quickly shut her jaw with a click of her teeth and smiled, although it was a very forced smile.  
  
"Darryl! Sheila! Hi!" she chirped brightly. "How nice of you both to be here!"  
  
Sheila's smile faded when she saw the expression on the other woman's face. Granted, it was a happy smiley look but it was forced. She had seen such a look on Darryl's face a few times before.  
  
"Paige, is something the matter?" she asked. "Are we here at a bad time?"  
  
"No... It's just that– " Paige looked behind her into the house before turning to them, her smile now rather strained and her eyes dark with worry.  
  
"Did something happen to the boys, or Piper or Phoebe?" Sheila persisted. She could feel Darryl glowering beside her, silently insisting they leave. She was not going to leave, not when the sisters were in trouble. They had been there for her and Darryl a few times in the past.  
  
At the mention of the boys, Paige's face crumpled. She didn't cry, though there was a brightness in her eyes.  
  
"Paige, maybe Darryl and I can help."  
  
"You can't help, Sheila," Paige said in a subdued tone. "It's– not that simple."  
  
"Paige! Who is it? We need to go now!" Footsteps sounded from the inside and the door opened wider to reveal Piper.  
  
"Darryl? Sheila?" Piper looked just as surprised as her sister did just now. She swung her head to look at her sister then at the Morrises and sighed. "Come on in."

* * *

"I am so sorry, Piper," Sheila was saying.  
  
"It's not your fault." Piper waved her hand dismissively. "We're the Charmed Ones. Demons are always going to attack. Only that we didn't expect a baby-snatching demon to attack on Chris's frickin' birthday."  
  
"Is there anything we can do to help out?" Sheila knew it was a ridiculous question as soon as it left her mouth. How was she going to help? She didn't know magic or anything.  
  
"Maybe we should leave Wyatt with them," Leo suggested.  
  
"What?" both Darryl and Piper exclaimed.  
  
"Why not? I'm sure Sheila will be more than happy to take care of Wyatt while we're gone," Leo said in his most reasonable tone.  
  
"What if the demon comes back for Wyatt and attacked them?" Piper frowned at her husband, wondering if he had damaged his head during the attack earlier.  
  
"I don't think it would attack with mortals around. Even it would think twice about risking exposure."  
  
"But– " Piper began to protest. She didn't see the point of leaving her son with the Morrises. Someone laid a hand on her shoulder, and she saw it was Phoebe.  
  
Her sister nodded silently, tilting her head slightly to the Morrises. Piper looked at the direction she indicated.  
  
Darryl looked half annoyed, half reluctant. Sheila looked considerably less worried than before, as if being trusted with the care of Wyatt had lifted a little of the worries away and made her feel as if she was helping out.  
  
Piper sighed for the second time. She had no time to argue about it. Time was ticking and Chris was still missing. She had to trust that Leo knew what he was doing.  
  
"All right."  
  
Leo handed Wyatt to Sheila. "We'll be back for him later. Be good for your dad, okay?" He ruffled Wyatt's hair.  
  
"Okay," said the toddler.  
  
"No magic," Piper added as an afterthought. The toddler tended to use magic whenever possible and whenever he felt like it. "Promise Mommy, no magic around Uncle Darryl and Aunt Sheila."  
  
Wyatt screwed up his face as if to protest but then nodded. "All right, Mommy."  
  
"Be good," said Piper, planting a kiss on his cheek. She wiggled her fingers in a wave and he returned it, although he looked rather woeful as Sheila carried him out of the house.  
  
"Okay, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" Paige took Phoebe by the wrist and orbed out.  
  
Leo smiled at his wife before orbing them after the pair.  
  
TBC...


	5. Part 4

Balloons, Cakes & Demons  
  
Part 4  
  
The library for any first time visitor was something out of a children's book. The ceiling in the center of the room rose high up to disappear into the shadows above. Sunlight shone through the lattice windows, creating patterns of light and shadows along the hardwood floors. There was a suit of armor at one end of the room which was only for decorative purposes. Books of every size and shape lined the shelves in the library, some as thin as a notepad, others as thick as a dictionary, some bound in leather covers, others in hard cardboard covers or just plain paperback covers. There were several tables and chairs for the student body and faculty to use in research or doing assignments.  
  
The sudden bright lights and melodic chimes of an orb alerted the librarian of an unexpected visitor. The lights faded to reveal the Charmed Ones and the Elder. The sisters' and Leo's coming and going at Magic School was something of the norm now. No one batted an eyelash when they orbed in and out of the school.  
  
"Ms. Matthews!" the librarian exclaimed in surprise at the sight. "Mrs. Winterbourne had mentioned you wouldn't be coming in today."  
  
"Change of plans, Daniel," Paige said, waving her hand offhandedly. "I need to use the restricted section."  
  
"You have a restricted section?" Piper asked in astonishment. They'd been here several times before Gideon's demise and had never heard of a restricted section.  
  
"If Hogwarts has one, why not Magic School?" Paige answered.  
  
"You do know your knowledge of a fictional magical school is creepy, don't you?" Phoebe made a face. She remembered when it came to choosing a name for the then-as-yet-to-be-named Wyatt, Paige had made a crack about Harry Potter and using Potter for the name.  
  
Paige made no reply to her sister's comment. Instead, she beckoned for them to follow her to one end of the library where there was a mahogany door with a brass knob and the gold plated sign which read, 'Restricted Section' in bold letters.  
  
"I never saw this door before," Leo commented.  
  
"That's because it's new," Paige said. "The door's just for show. It's enchanted to open only to Daniel Chaplin over there and me. No one else has access to this section."  
  
True to Paige's words, the door swung open on its own accord without her turning the knob, opening to a narrow stairway leading up into shadows.  
  
"How are we going to see in the dark?" Piper said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Paige stepped foot through the doorway and immediately, the stairway was lit up by the lights along the walls. She smirked at her sisters' amazement and headed upstairs. "Tick, tock, as Pheebs like to say. Unless you still want to gawk some more at the marvel of magic?"  
  
"Sarcasm doesn't become you," Piper retorted, following her sister up.  
  
The restricted section was only half the size of the library below. Here, the shelves rose from floor to the ceiling, crammed with hundreds or more books. There was only one large table and several chairs in the center and two lamps at each end of the table. Strangely, there was another suit of armor at the corner; this one holding a mace. Sunlight filtered through the only stained glass window in this room. It was eerily silent and Phoebe half expected something or someone to jump out from behind one of the shelves before them.  
  
"Welcome to Magic School's restricted section," Paige said with flourish."Here you'll find books that are normally not accessible to the students and faculty without permission."  
  
Piper read the titles on the spines of the books as she went along. Most were enough to make her eyebrows migrate all the way to her scalp. _23 Ways to Resurrect The Dead_. _The Uses of Dragon's Heart_. _History of Dark Magic_. _Demons_, _Demons_, _Demons_. _Curses 101_. Not knowing where to start, she grabbed several titles off the shelf along with the _Demons_, _Demons_, _Demons_ volume and headed to the table, where she found Leo was already looking through a large flat book. The illustration of a half naked woman in nothing but strips of cloth on the page made her clear her throat loudly.  
  
"Would you like me to dress like that?" she asked in a light tone as she sat next to him, placing her books with an audible thump beside her.  
  
Leo turned red and closed the book hastily, reaching for another book by his elbow. She smirked then her face grew somber when she remember why they were all here in the first place.  
  
"We'll find him, Piper," said Leo in a soft tone.  
  
"I can't lose him again, Leo. I just can't."  
  
Leo drew her close, resting his hand at the nape of her neck. "You won't. I promise." He thought back to another time when he had said those words in vain. This time, he would keep his promise, or die trying.  
  
Piper looked up to see her husband's look of determination transform into a small reassuring smile. She smiled in return, suddenly glad he was here with her, going through this with her.  
  
The moment was broken when Phoebe and Paige came over. Phoebe juggled several heavy tomes in her arms, while Paige was empty handed.  
  
"Aren't you researching?" Piper asked suspiciously.  
  
"I am. Just not too keen on carrying heavy volumes here." Paige lifted her hand and gave a wave with a flourish. Sounds of jangling bells could be heard and lights seemed to flash here and there among the shelves before several orbs materialized on the table and their lights faded to reveal a pile of books.  
  
"Personal gain," Phoebe muttered, giving her sister a look of envy.  
  
"As headmistress I am allowed to use magic freely here." Paige gave her a smug look before sitting down and starting on her research.  
  
"What are we looking for here? Exactly?" Leo finally asked.  
  
"Anything to do with acid spitting demons or demons who kidnaps babies or eat babies," Paige replied without looking up from her own dusty tome.  
  
"Basically, anything on acid spitting, baby-snatching demons," Phoebe said wryly.  
  
Silence fell on the group as they all concentrated on their books.

* * *

The old hag pushed her plait back impatiently as she raised the butcher knife and brought it down on butcher block. Blood dotted her face and clothes but she barely noticed as she went through the motions of chopping and cutting. She was in a foul mood and her pet seemed to sense this, staying well away from her. She brought the knife down hard on the deer, face etched in an angry scowl. The latest addition to the ragamuffins had proven to be bolder than the rest of the pack. He didn't seem fearful of her or her pet, and the prospect of being the next dinner didn't faze him.  
  
He had twice orbed out of the cage and to the clearing, but the wards to prevent anyone from coming and going magically around the clearing had forced him back into the house. For the moment, he was now inside the wooden cage, eyes following her every move with all the intensity of a hunter following its prey. She lobbed off the flesh and tossed it to her pet at the corner of the room. It snapped up the morsel eagerly then lay back down.  
  
"You will be next here," she said crossly to the toddler, jabbing the chopper at the butcher block.  
  
The toddler blinked up at her and she suddenly found the knife gone from her hand, disappearing in a flurry of lights. She stared for a minute before marching towards the bamboo cages, slamming a hand against the bars, frightening the other children into tears and whimpers.  
  
"Do not play around, child," she said, her voice suddenly, deceptively soft. "I have ways of making you obey. I know you understand me very well. Try another one of your tricks again and one of them will be dinner tonight."  
  
"Hag," the toddler said, brow drawing together.  
  
The hag's face turned almost purple at the name. "Impudent child," she hissed. "I will enjoy having you. I know I will."  
  
Chris made no respond to her threats.

* * *

Books, books, books and more books. Phoebe felt like she had gone through at least a dozen or more of those wretched things. Her eyes were beginning to feel dry and they hurt. She rubbed them before looking to her left to see her sisters and brother-in-law diligently searching, with some urgency in their manner.  
  
Piper was turning pages as quickly as she was skimming through them, tossing the books she had looked through aside to a growing pile next to her. Paige picked up a book from that pile, in case her harried sister missed anything. Leo was doing it more methodically, starting from A to Z, 1 to 10, scrutinizing every word or sentence or picture.  
  
"Phoebe, why have you stopped?" Piper demanded from her seat, nose buried in a thick, leather bound volume. Phoebe could see _Demons_, _Demons_, _Demons_ on its spine.  
  
"There is nothing about that blasted demon in those books," said Phoebe, not feeling the need to excuse herself for stopping.  
  
"Well, so far, I've found descriptions on dragons, unicorns, gryphons, and whatnots," Paige said from her place. She shut her book with a thump. "Did you know dragons don't really eat virgin princesses or damsels like in movies?"  
  
"Really?" Phoebe's interest was piqued. "What else?"  
  
"Focus here, people," Piper said, glowering at them. "Nephew's life at stake here. Not virgin damsels or virgin eating dragons."  
  
"I think I found our demon," announced Leo. He placed the book in front of themon the table, jabbing a finger at the fading watercolor illustration on the yellowed page.  
  
Paige got up, going around the table to Phoebe's side. Piper had full view of the illustration and details.  
  
"It's a canis lupis demon," Paige said from the first paragraph. "Kind of like a dog demon but hairless and spits acid."  
  
"I'll bet it isn't friends with Lassie then," quipped Phoebe. Paige's lips twitched but she kept from laughing.  
  
Piper refrained from rolling her eyes and said nothing, reading out loud. "'It was first created by a dark wizard named Morgoth to hunt down the traitorous apprentice when the dark wizard discovered the apprentice ran off with his new bride. The demon then proceeded to shred the poor man and the unfortunate bride to pieces' Huh, so much for the honeymoon."  
  
"Whoa, back up. It was created? As in made?" Phoebe gave a shake of her head. "Must be really dark magic then to create something so horrible. What did Morgoth do, sell his soul for the spell?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, he did." Paige tapped the last paragraph. She squinted. "It says he made a bargain with the demons from hell to create such a beast and grant himthe power of dark arts in exchange for his soul. Talk about being intense about your craft."  
  
"Okay, so now we know what demon it is," said Piper. "How do we find it?"  
  
"Tracking spell?" Paige suggested.  
  
"For us to track it, we need it to put the spell on it," Piper said crossly. "And it isn't exactly here now, is it?"  
  
"No need to bite my head off," Paige said, just as cross.  
  
"What we need is bait," Leo said.  
  
Piper's head swivelled to Leo, incredulity on her face. "If you even suggest Wyatt..." she warned.  
  
"No, not Wyatt, of course," Leo said hastily.  
  
"Using someone else's kid is out of the question," Phoebe pointed out. "Besides, we are supposed to keep the demon away from children, not drawing it to them."  
  
"What we really, really need to find out is who sent the demon," Paige said. "Who is it working for and where it comes from? Why is it targeting kids only?"  
  
Leo grew thoughtful at Paige's words. "There might be something..." he trailed off, leaving the sisters to give him expectant looks. "It's at the back of my head but I need to check out some sources. I'll be right back."  
  
Without further explanation, he orbed out.  
  
"Someone better nail his wings to the floor next time," grumbled Piper, turning back to the book. "Or else we'll be left without any explanations."  
  
TBC...

_AN: The book Demons, Demons, Demons is from an episode of Angel or Buffy, whichever I can't remember. The library is based on the library at Hogwarts since I love Harry Potter as well, and decided to incorporate it in._


	6. Part 5

Balloons, Cakes and Demons 

Part 5

He orbed halfway across the globe, across the plains, over the Atlantic Ocean and past several small islands before coming to his destination.

It was a world unlike the one he had left behind. The air fizzled with magic, like bubbles rising in a glass of soda, making his skin tingle. The surrounding forests were old, their trees reaching up above to the heavens. Mountains stood tall with their snow peak caps, obscured by the mists swirling above. It was chillier than in warm San Francisco. The leaves on the branches and twigs were turning to golden-browns and reds, already covering the forest floor with their colors. The sign of the beginning of the coming frost. Winter arrived here much faster than the other side.

Leo absently wished he had brought his jacket along. He wasn't freezing yet but it was really cold. His breaths came out in small mists before his face as he made his way up a familiar path, between the tall trees, past a stream and into a large clearing.

A quaint English cottage stood in the center, smoke puffing out from the twin chimneys on the straw-thatched roof. Sunlight glinted off the lattice windows. A tiger tabby lay dozing on the window sill next to a flower pot. It lifted its head at the sound of his arrival, stretched lazily, and jumped off the sill into the house.

The paint on the door was chipped and faded. It was foreboding and inviting at the same time. Leo hesitated, then raised a fist and rapped firmly on the surface smartly. He would have orbed in but it was manners to make one's presence known first.

"Come in," a voice called out from inside. He entered with some trepidation, anticipation and some other emotions doing cartwheels in in his stomach .

The inside of the house was what he had remembered. Cosy and homely. It was warmly lit by the fire burning away in the fireplace and the torches along the walls, giving the room a warm, ocher glow. A bookcase lined one wall with books and several knick-knacks. An antique lamp sat on a side table next to the worn-out armchair. A low coffee table was littered with more books and several pieces of paper and a bowl with fruit. The tiger tabby had settled itself on the mismatched couch, leaving the other armchair free. From the middle of the room, Leo could see the rickety stairs leading up the first floor landing of the house, and he could see the shelves lined up, filled with books. Here was another mark of wisdom: one could never have too many books.

"It's been a while, Leo Wyatt. What brings you all the way from Elderland to here?" came a voice from his right as the owner stepped out from the small hidden alcove.

The woman was in her mid-fifties with greying hair, but she still stood straight in a stance that reminded Leo that she was not to be underestimated. The gold bracelets on her wrists jangled as she wrapped a knitted shawl around her shoulders securely. Her fathomless black eyes turned to him.

"Hello Shamala."

Shamala Leila nodded, waving a hand at him, an invitation for him to sit on the battered couch. "You were always one to beat around the bush, Leo. Always starting things with a preamble before getting to the point."

She seated herself at one of the armchairs, eyeing him as he sat down on the couch. She gave a flick of her wrist and the low coffee table had a tea tray on top with the customary teapot, cups, saucers and a plate of biscuits. The tiger tabby hissed at Leo's sudden intrusion on its spot on the couch and jumped off, tail swishing, to disappear into the kitchen.

"Come, this isn't any social visit," she said, allowing a small smirk on her face at his surprised expression. "I know you, Leo. You haven't been here in over twenty-five years and suddenly, lo and behold! You just appear out of nowhere."

"I didn't appear out of nowhere. I orbed," Leo objected, continuing the banter they'd shared all those years ago as though he'd seen her only yesterday.

"Ah, yes. Such a way to travel." Shamala Leila dismissed his mild protest, then told him with a look that she knew a visit from him was serious, and that he could dispense with their peculiar form of pleasantries.

"It's my son." His brows furrowed as he came straight to the point. "My youngest. A demon came to our place, attacked my family, and made off him today."

"It was coming for your first born, actually." Shamala noted the surprise on his face. "The demon was supposed to take Wyatt but instead it took Christopher. Beggars can't be choosers, as they say. And that boy is no slouch himself, considering who his old man and mother are. He's got good blood." She paused and nodded to herself."Good blood. That is what they usually want, after all."

"Then you know who's behind it?" Leo demanded.

"I do not know; I only assumed." The woman looked slightly offended. "I do not have the gift of foresight. I believe I do know that you have an inkling of who it might be."

Back at Magic School, something had tickled Leo's memories at the mention of the demon. Something vaguely familiar that was at the back of his mind, but no matter how much he tried to recall it, it just remained out of reach, frustratingly out of his grasp. Only one thing had come to mind. The name Shamala Leila. He had left the sisters then, knowing Piper was going to launch into one of her tirades once he got back to them for leaving them grasping straws once more.

"It's at the back of my mind," he admitted. "But I can't seem to fit the pieces together. There's something about this place and you, it's like -- it's like it's connected somehow..."

Shamala Leila nodded, an odd expression on her face as she studied him somberly. Leo watched her carefully. Contrary to popular belief that he was often oblivious, he was actually rather sharp and perceptive. He could see the way his friend's shoulders had stiffened, could see the conflicting emotions in those wise eyes.

"There is a connection isn't there?" he asked, suddenly feeling a dread in the pit of his belly. A part of him was wildly excited that he was getting a break but the other part was... afraid, quaking at the impending words.

The witch finally stood up, standing before him. "Are you prepared for this, Leo Wyatt?" she asked softly, her burr accenting her words. "It will not be pleasant. There will be things that you'd rather not see or hear."

Leo squared his jaw, pushing the irrational fear away. "My son's life depends on this, on you and your answers."

"Very well." Shamala Leila nodded gravely.

And Leo was suddenly falling into a never-ending darkness.

* * *

Leo found himself at a meadow. The sun was shining brightly down on him but he felt no heat from its rays. While the leaves rustled in the unseen breeze, he felt no wind. It was eerily silent and still, with not so much as the sounds of chirping birds or insects. He took a cautious step forward and halted when he saw a figure darting out from the trees to the field dotted with wildflowers.

It was a small girl of five or so with long dark curls. She wore a yellow pinafore over her white blouse and brown sandals. Her eyes shone with some happiness and the carefree feeling of a child. Her mouth was turned upward in a laugh,  
yet Leo didn't hear any sound coming from her. It was as if someone had taken the TV remote and muted all sounds.

Another figure came out from the shadow of the trees, a woman with familiar brown eyes and dark hair. The sunlight glinted off her gold bracelets. She wore a warm smile on her face as she watched the child run and dance among the wildflowers. Leo recognized her at once. She looked years younger, more carefree, but he knew her.

It was Shamala Leila.

The scene changed to another, one in the late afternoon. The sun cast its final amber glow over the cottage. Shamala was standing by the door, still smiling as the child skipped down the path to the house. The girl was saying something to Shamala, her lips moving, but Leo couldn't hear the words or catch what she was saying. He stepped forward, wanting to get closer, when he saw a shadow move among the trees. Reptilian eyes glowed in the dusky light. In an instant, the shadow moved. Leo opened his mouth to shout out a warning to the two, but no sound came out.

It was a demon. A large brutish, hairless beast. It sprang towards the girl, grasping her with its large paw, digging its claws into her delicate skin, drawing a cry of terror and pain from her, and blood.

Leo could see Shamala scream, saw her lips moving as she recited a spell even as she ran towards where the girl and the demon were. The girl was crying, screaming, trying to get away from the demon's tight grasp.

The demon snarled furiously, not liking that its prey was fighting back against it. Its ears flattened on top of its head as it opened its jaw and spat at the woman coming at it. The acid hit her on the right shoulder and upper arm, eating away at flesh, exposing bone. Shamala screamed in agony, collapsing on the ground.

Leo found his feet moving on his own accord as he darted towards them, throwing out his arm, intending to shock the demon into letting go of the child. Nothing happened. "What the–?!" he exclaimed. His powers should have worked. He could only watch helplessly as the demon flashed out with the girl.

Bright lights made him lift his head up to see himself forming into solid form beside the hysterical Shamala. He took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief and mouth opened in an 'O'. What was happening? He watched as his double held out his hands over the woman's wound and started healing.

Several more lights appeared and he saw three Elders had orbed next to them, one of which was his old mentor. Gideon helped him with the healing. Once done, Shamala's face crumpled up and she burst into a fit of wailing, grasping hold of him as if he was her last lifeline. Leo saw the other Elders shaking their heads, converging in a small circle for a meeting on the situation. It lasted a few heartbeats before they turned to face the trio: Leo's past self, Shamala, and his mentor.

Leo couldn't hear what they were saying, but their faces were grim and serious, almost sad even. His mentor took his past self by the arm, said something to him, and they orbed away. One of the remaining Elders knelt by Shamala, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his mouth moving, probably saying something. Leo wished someone would turn off the mute button, this soundlessness was making him crazy. Not only that, the entire scene was making him confused.

He was about to try and see if he could get any of their attention when he felt himself being tugged away from the site.

He was falling head over heels in the same darkness again.

* * *

Leo suddenly found himself back at the same cottage except it was now midmorning. A different time and day. He could see everything was still the same, except it was not. The paint on the door had begun to chip away in flakes, peeling off. He stepped forward cautiously, confused as to why he was brought back here. He stopped when he saw his past self standing at the edge of the grove. There was such an infinite sorrow and despair on the face that it was nearly tangible.

Past Leo was wearing one of those flannel shirts he used to wear, a tatty shirt and even tattier jeans. His hair was mussed and grimy as if he hadn't washed it on days or weeks. There was the beginnings of a beard on his chin. His face looked haggard, the eyes red rimmed and bloodshot, the shadows under them, making them rather unflattering. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days.

Leo bit his lip, wondering what had happened to him during that time and how on earth he had let himself go like that. A memory of his two wartime buddies' spirits haunting him and his family came to mind, and he knew just how he could let himself go. That one time had been enough. But apparently, it wasn't the first time.

A violet light along with a sharp jangle appeared beside his past self. Past Leo didn't even twitch a muscle as the lights faded to reveal his mentor. The expression on the man's reminded Leo of a time when Gideon had always been understanding, caring and kind. He missed that Gideon.

"Leo," said Gideon.

Someone had heard him and had flipped the mute button off. He could now hear everything. He hurried closer, not wanting to miss everything.

"Thomas had to take care of your charges," Gideon said, as if having a pleasant conversation instead of trying to get his protege to pull himself together. "The poor man is running himself ragged in trying to get to your charges and his own."

Past Leo made no sound, merely staring at the cottage.

"Leo, please, you must pull yourself together." This time, Gideon's tone was firm but still kind. "Your charges need you. We need you. You cannot allow yourself to just– to just rot away like nothing. It was not your fault. You were tending to another charge that day."

"I came too late!" past Leo cried out, whirling around and meeting his mentor's eyes. "I heard her but I didn't come straight away! What kind of Whitelighter am I? Tell me!"

"Things happen, Leo," Gideon said patiently. "We cannot stop fate or destiny. The world doesn't just halt itself. It continues to move along."

"So, you're asking me to forget what happened? I can't– I can't ever forget what had happened!"

Leo flinched at the anguish in his past self's tone. He realized distractedly he had a tendency to beat himself up over everything.

Gideon let out a breath, patience thinning from his pupil's stubborness.

"The Elders have given you as much time as we can to recover from the incident, but time is running out. Thomas cannot keep up with the double workload and tend to his own charges as well as yours. Leo, I can't stand seeing you in such anguish, wallowing in guilt and sadness. But I see talking has no effect on you, so I have no other choice."

The Elder dipped his hand into the pouch in the pocket of his coat, fingering the tiny particles running between fingertips. He took a pinch and without warning, sprinkled them into Past Leo's face.

"Forgive me, my friend," he said. A golden light surrounded his protege, then it faded away. The man before him looked nothing like the man just now. There was serenity on his face.

"Gideon?" he asked, sounding bewildered. "What are you doing here? What am I doing here?"

"We're just about to leave," Gideon said. "Shamala always serves the best tea. Come, we'd best be going. I'm sure Thomas will be glad to be relieved of your charges."

"Why?"

Gideon chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. His words were cut off as he orbed them away from the place.

Leo stared at the spot where they had been minutes ago, his eyes stinging. He never did get to thank his mentor for that merciful act. He looked back at the cottage and suddenly found himself falling once more.

* * *

Leo gasped out loud, blinking away the wetness in his eyes as he came back to the present. He reached up with one hand to wipe at his face before looking up to see Shamala Leila before him. Older now, wiser, wrinkles at the corner of those eyes. There was an infinite sadness in those eyes now, a sorrow that Leo felt he could reach out and touch.

"I was there...? They– he - Gideon used memory dust, took away that memory."

"You were overwhelmed with guilt for months, for not being there," she said gently. "For having Sarala being taken."

The memories of the past rushed back. Leo remembered now. He had heard her screaming and orbed as fast as he could, arriving only to miss the demon and to see Shamala in pain and hysterics on the ground. He had gone to heal her then, trying to calm her down as she told him to ignore her and go after Sarala. Then the other Elders arrived, Gideon included among them.

"Gideon did not want you to live with such a memory," Shamala said. "He wanted to spare you the burden. He explained it to me, told me why you couldn't be my Whitelighter anymore, told me he allowed you to keep the memory of me but not of that day or anything of Sarala."

"He was the one who took away the memory of that day," Leo said. He remembered it well now. How he had let himself wallow in the sorrow, grief and despair, unable to deal with everything. He couldn't even tend to his charges. He remembered wanting to just crawl into a hole and stay there, or better yet, just die. Gideon had found him at the cottage, talked to him, tried to get him to pull himself together. As a last resort, Gideon had told him this was for his own good and memory dusted him free of that day.

Sarala, sweet, cheerful Sarala. Leo now remembered her. A bright child with a ready smile for everyone. How could he ever forget her? How could he ever forget something so important as that day? He felt sudden anger rising at the other Elders who had adamantly refused to let him know of the various disappearance of the children in the last two weeks or so. They knew all along how intimately connected he really was. He wanted to go back Up There and just blast them to hell and back, but held back. They could wait until later. His son could not.

"Shamala... I– I'm sorry, for that day," he said, remorse in his eyes.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Leo Wyatt. It was not your fault and I do not blame you. I blamed myself for my carelessness." Shamala's face hardened when she saw he was about to drown in another round of guilt. "This is not the time to feel sorry or pity, Leo Wyatt. Christopher is in terrible danger. I have shown you what you seek, now it is up to you to follow the lead."

Leo nodded. On impulse, he embraced her fiercely. "I– Thank you for what you have shown to me."

"Go, now." The witch smiled at him sadly, pulling away from his hug.

"I'll come back to see you once this is over," he promised.

"Ah, you better bring that boy of yours along." Shamala smiled, the sadness fading slightly. "I want to see him in one piece, Leo Wyatt."

Leo nodded and orbed away, leaving behind the fading lights and chimes.

Shamala turned and looked down at her cat as it sat by her side and stared at her. "I hope he will not fall into the same fate as my Sarala did," she said softly.

The cat mewed at her in agreement. Together, owner and pet sat by the fireplace.

TBC...


	7. Part 6

Balloons, Cakes & Demons 

Part 6

The hag sat on a three-legged stool by the fire. The ochre light from the flames cast one side of her face in light and the other side in shadows. The brats were quiet, for now. Most of them had worked themselves into a tiredness. She stared into the fire, eyes barely blinking or moving, just staring straight ahead at the dancing flames before her, as if she was hypnotized by it.

Gradually, the feeling of someone boring a hole through her skull made her turn towards the cages. She found the little brat very much wide awake and his rather penetrating gaze concentrated solely on her. He was obviously different, not even afraid of her at all. She got up from the stool, making her way to the cage. Those eyes were disconcerting, forcing her to look elsewhere instead of looking at them. She had a grudging admiration for one with such fearlessness as him.

"I'd gouge your eyes out if you keep staring at me," she said in a surly tone to him.

He didn't even look away. He reminded her rather disturbingly of a vaguely familiar child she'd knew long time ago. The almost similar hair, eyes and cherubic features. She snorted at the thought. Sentiment didnâ€™t become her. She purposefully scowled at the boy, screwing her face up to something much more sinister-looking.

The boy barely even blinked at her. She gave up the cause, turning and walking a few paces away from the cage. A wave of the hand had the stool appearing at her feet and she sat down on it. She pointedly ignored the stare and instead, looked at the fire once more. Old memories of a long forgotten past began to surface.

"Let me tell you a story, boy, of something that happened a long time ago."

* * *

Her name was Charlotte. She was never married nor had any children.

She lived in a shabby, little hut near the old forest, at the end of the village. She had come here from another place many years back, to marry one of the men in the village but sadly, he died of a sickness before they could wed. So Charlotte remained in the village, staying at the rickety hut with its leaking roof, tiny vegetable patch and a skinny goat.

The village was typical of many that were scattered around the place, with a well worn, dirt path running through it to link one village to another. Most of the villages were separated by acres of land, rivers and streams and the forests which surrounded them. Travel was done by foot, horseback or cart. None of the villagers owned a horse, so most of their traveling was done by foot.

The village wasn't poor, per se. They were the lower working class, mostly farmers and miners. There was a coal mine ten miles from the village where the men would leave for days at a time, leaving their wives at home to take care of the children. The women were kept busy most of the time, cooking, cleaning, washing, feeding their brood and planting. With all their time spent on their chores, none of them had time to properly care for their young.

The children were dressed in hand-me-downs from older siblings or clothes that had been patched up one too many times. They were often seen running around barefoot. The girls were dressed in faded frocks, their hairs in wild tangles and generally unwashed. The boys were the same. They were a ragtag bunch of children in worn out clothes, smudges on their face and a knotted mass of hair on top of their heads.

Now, Charlotte adored children, having none of her own. She didn't mind that they were unwashed or if they smell. Children were children. She found them all to be delightfully charming, despite their lack of manners at times. She thought it was such a pity that the parents didn't take proper care of their brood, leaving them running about in such a manner.

One of them was an adorable little boy with the brightest green eyes she had ever seen. He had rather cherubic features. Charlotte thought he was a darling but he was one of those without manners. His mother was often too busy to tend to him and left him to his devices, which meant he ran about all day with the other children.

"Hello, darling," she greeted him on her way to buy some flour.

He stared at her as if she was daft in the head.

"Nyah!" said one of the older ones, sticking his tongue out at her. "Old biddy!"

That set them off in a loud, raucous laughter. An elderly woman nearby shouted at them to scat as they were making a menace of themselves. They took off running, still laughing at the smart remark.

"Don't you go all soft on â€˜em, imps," the elderly woman grumbled to Charlotte. "They're insolent whelps, that they are."

Charlotte just smiled politely. "Yes, Milicent."

"Pah! Brats, all of them brats." Milicent spat on the ground and waddle off, her stiff joints giving her some trouble in the cold.

Charlotte paid no heed to old Milicent. She continued to greet the children, sometimes trying to engage them in small talk, but she usually got a raspberry or a rude remark in return for her troubles. She persisted, though, gradually winning a couple over when she offered them some sweets. They had snatched at the food, stuffing it into their mouths as fast as they could, as if someone might snatch it back from them.

The others soon followed suit when they saw that their playmates didn't keel over and die, and the sweets were a novelty among them. None of their mothers had ever made such a sweet confectionary for them in their lives.

Charlotte was delighted. She made cakes and more sweet confectionaries for them, stuffing them all silly. She managed to made them wash up before coming over. The girls' hair were now shiny curls tied with ragged ribbons. The boys' clothes were wiped clean of dirt. Their little, round faces shone, having been scrubbed vigorously and cleaned.

She grew fond of them, looking forward to their visits each day, feeling sad as they left for home later in the evening. She began to wish for them to stay with her everyday; they'd play games and bake cakes, and she'd feed them her sweets. The longing grew in her heart each day.

The women of the village noticed the change in their brood. The manners were still lacking somewhat but not as bad as before. The clothes were clean, their faces scrubbed free of grime and dirt. At first, the women were relieved to be free of tending to the children every day. They now had more free time than before and they spent it gossiping among themselves. But as the days and weeks went by, they began to miss having their brood around them. Relief turned to jealousy and then to resentment.

The human heart is a fragile thing. Weak and easily swayed. Even the softest of the hearts can turn to stone.

The women waited until it was evening when their children came home to give them the news. They were forbidden to see that woman again. If they dared to disobey, they would be paddle. The children all sullenly agreed, although it was not without some tearshed first.

But the next day found the children away from their homes and at Charlotte's once more. The women, feeling resentful, began to gather together at each other's houses and spend the hours away talking about the despicable things they would do to Charlotte. When their children came home, they paddled them, sending them to bed without supper. When the husbands came home, they lamented to them. The men were weary from working all day, and had no wish to hear their wives' complaints.

Weeks passed, and the resentment grew. Finally, the women could stand it no more and they marched down the dirt path leading to the little hut. They bore in their hands pitchforks and brooms. Some carried torches.

"Charlotte!" one of them shouted, from the front yard. The others were gathered around her. "We want our children back!"

The front door opened with a creak, swinging all the way to reveal Charlotte standing in the frame. Peeking out from behind her were their children, little faces peering at their mothers with some curiosity. None of them made any move towards their mothers.

Charlotte looked at them impassively. What others said was indeed true; that you don't know what you have until it is gone. The mothers were now starting to miss their little ones, perhaps even starting to appreciate them. For Charlotte, such an act was just a tad too late.

"They don't love you anymore," said Charlotte clearly and loudly. "They belong to me now."

"They are not yours, old woman!" someone cried out, fury in her voice.

"They know who treats them better and who loves them more," Charlotte continued, unfazed by their anger. "You all never did appreciate them. Not once. You let them run wild like the animals in the forest. I took them in and took good care of them. I fed them and clothed them."

"Lies, all lies!" another shouted. "You are nothing but a foolish, old, delusional woman. Mary, come home at once!"

The little girl with the flaxen curls shook her head, hiding her face in Charlotte's apron. Several of the children all showed their refusal to return home with their mothers. They all chose to hide behind Charlotte. A few reluctantly moved out of the hut and towards their mothers where they were given a cuffing.

"Liam, don't you want to come home to Mummy?" one of the torch-wielding women said. "Mummy will make your favorite food. Come back with Mummy, won't you?"

Liam, the boy with the brown hair and green eyes, stared at his mother before turning away from her. She watched in shocked disbelief as he hugged Charlotte, an almost dreamy smile on his face.

"Charlotte is my Mummy now. She takes good care of me," he said.

"You see, Elizabeth, Liam knows who loves him," Charlotte said. Her expression was blank, but her eyes held affection for the boy at her side. "They know who loves them best. I can take care of them better than any of you."

The woman, Elizabeth, let out a scream of outrage. "Witch! You stole my son from me! You have him under a spell! You'll pay for it!" She threw the torch to the hut, the flames catching onto the wood. The fire spread quickly, licking at the wood, emitting heat and smoke in the air, nearly choking them all.

Charlotte turned, ushered the children into the hut and shut the door with a click.

"Elsa, no!" cried several of the women. Their children were still with Charlotte, in the hut.

"My daughter!" one cried, her arm outstretched but she didn't dare to go any nearer to the flames that were lapping the house. "Emily! Emily!"

The children who were outside let out cries of terror, clutching to each other at the sight of the burning building.

Elizabeth let out a wail, her hands clenching the grass and ripping it out of the earth as she realized what she had done. She had condemned her son to a fiery death inside the building. The other women were too frozen with shock and horror to comfort her. They could only stare at the burning building, knowing it was far too late to save anyone inside.

Fire danced around them all, licking at their hair, their clothes, singeing their skin, filling their throat and lungs with smoke. Smoke as black as night, stinging their eyes, making them water.

And yet, none of the children seem to care, for they clung to Charlotte, their expressions content and almost trance-like. None of them even noticed the flames raging around them, burning everything in its path. Pieces of the roof were beginning to collapse around them.

"Don't you worry, my little darlings," cooed Charlotte, seeming oblivious to the flames around her. "I'll take good care of you all. You will all stay with me always. Wouldn't you like that?" Murmurs of yes from the children and she smiled. "Yes, you would like that. Together forever."

The smile grew wider as the roof finally collapsed.

The house was burned down to cinders and ashes, nothing remained. The villagers could find no trace of Charlotte or the children's bodies anywhere. The women lamented loudly, regret in their voices as they bemoaned their loss. The men simply shook their heads at their wives, unable to comfort them for it was their own doing that killed their children. The other children - all five of them that remained - simply sat frozen before the hut.

None of them noticed the tracks that led away from the hut.

* * *

"Together, forever," the hag murmured. She looked over to where Chris was.

The child's stare didn't seem so penetrating now. Something flickered in those eyes, and then was gone. He grasped the bars with his small, smudged hands, peering at her.

"Poor hag," he said.

Startled, the hag stared at him for a heartbeat then turned away. She would not have this child pitying her. It was extraordinary that he understood what she had told him and felt something akin to pity for her.

"Pity is for the fools, like those women who burned their own children," she spat, jabbing a sharp fingernail at him. "I do not need your pity, boy. Pity is for fools only."

TBC...

_EN: In anime, characters that are evil often have incredibly twisted backgrounds but they have their reasons in doing the things that they do. They feel what they do is right and what everyone do is wrong. _


	8. Part 7

Balloons, Cakes and Demons 

Part 7

When Leo was orbing back to Magic School, he sensed that the sisters were no longer there. It took him a second to sensed that they were now back home, upstairs in the attic. He changed direction and took solid form before them. He could tell from Piper's expression that he was going to get an earful from her. The other two merely looked curious. Paige's curiosity was clearly killing her inside, from the way she fidgeted about.

"Where were you?" Piper demanded, springing up from the couch. She marched right towards him, planting her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed into slits as she stared at him with an expression that could kill.

"I had to follow a hunch," he replied.

"A hunch," she said.

Phoebe quickly stood next to Piper, a smile on her face as she jabbed her sister in the ribs. "Piper," she said.

Piper huffed, but backed down a little, folding her arms across her chest.

"What did you find out?" Paige asked.

"An old friend of mine who went through a similar situation like us now," Leo said. "Shamala Leila's daughter was kidnapped the same way Chris was years ago. I was her Whitelighter that time, and I arrived too late to help." He noted their brief sympathetic looks which soon turned business-like. "The demon that attacked her and took Sarala is the same demon that took Chris."

"But that still doesn't give us much clue as to why and who," Phoebe said, slight frustration in her face. "So, it's connected to something that happened many years ago and you were a witness to it."

"Hey, wait! Back up a bit," said Paige. Her eyes grew suspicious at Leo. "If you were there, how come you didn't remember it any of it until just now?"

"Yeah, Leo, how come?" Piper gave him a look.

"I had a walk down memory lane," was Leo's cryptic answer.

They stared at him, then dismissed his answer, knowing they won't get anymore out of him.

"Whatever. Iâ€˜ve been trying to sense any other attacks the demon could be making since this morning," Paige said. "But no luck. Since you are Elder and all, maybe you can sense better than me?" It wasn't a question but an order.

Leo obliged, closing his eyes and spreading out his senses. Numerous voices and emotions filled him, from those who were around him in their neighborhood to those downtown to the city and the entire state of San Francisco. He carefully sifted through the many voices, sorting them, blocking out those he didn't need.

A scream echoed in his head, making him snap his eyes opened.

The sisters gave him an expectant look. Paige opened her mouth to say something to him when he once again orbed off without a word.

Paige closed her mouth with an audible click of her teeth, then gave her sisters a helpless shrug and a don't-look-at-me' look. Phoebe merely shook her head, heading towards the Book.

Piper let out an exasperated growl, tilted her head upward, and shouted, "Leo Wyatt! You get back here this instant! LEO!"

* * *

Michelle Carts skidded on the rug, nearly tripping herself to the floor, but righted herself just in time and continued with her dash towards the living room. She cursed inwardly, wishing that Michael was home but no such luck. Her husband was still thousands of miles away in Chicago and wasn't going to appear anytime soon .

A sharp cry from the child in her arms reminded her of the situation they were in. She soothed Melanie as best as she could in her frazzled state, reaching the living room and quickly ducking behind the sofa, her breaths ragged and loud in her ears. Melanie was shaking in her arms.

The day had started out normal enough. Michelle had left Melanie in the playroom while she was in the kitchen downstairs, baking cupcakes. She had been halfway through when she heard the loud crash coming from upstairs and she immediately teleported up there, only to find a monstrosity that was going to harm her daughter.

Melanie's room was a mess. The princess-pink shelf Michael bought for her last month looked as if it had been eaten away by some sort of slime or liquid which was still smoking. Mel's books and toys were scattered around the room, most which were around the creature. Mel had apparently tried to defend herself by throwing those things at it, but to no avail.

Michelle was in front of her daughter in a flash. She looked around for something to be used as a weapon and found a plastic baseball bat in her reach. It won't do any damage to the demon but it made her feel much better wielding it in her hand.

"Stay away from my baby," she snarled at the demon, waving the bat threateningly.

The demon - reminding her of a squat, hairless bulldog - opened its maw, revealing razor-sharp teeth that gleamed with saliva. Michelle had a split second to realize what it was going to do. She grasped hold of Melanie and they teleported away just as the demon spat the acid.

Michelle had teleported back outside the hallway and began to run, at first dragging Mel along with her until the girl started crying and she finally picked up her daughter. The playroom was at the end of the hallway, and the stairs suddenly seemed like a long way to go. She had dashed down the stairs, nearly falling in her haste and reached the bottom when the presence of danger alerted her.

She teleported out of the way and into the kitchen. The demon followed suit, led by her in a mad-dash chase around the house before she finally ended up in the living room. She huddled further down behind the sofa, shushing Mel while listening for any sound behind her.

Melanie stopped her crying, but was still shaking in her arms.

There was an utter stillness and silence behind her. It made Michelle feel tense, her heart beating twice as fast as if it was going to escape from her ribcage. She adjusted her grip on Mel so she would hold her more securely, carefully and quietly rising up from behind the sofa.

She met the demon face to face. Frozen in terrified shock, Michelle could only stare as if transfixed with a morbid fascination as the demon opened its mouth, tendrils of saliva stretching from its fangs.

A sound like music but not quite was heard in the room. It reminded Michelle of those chimes which she'd seen sold at gift shops or a sound like the jingles of a music box. Whichever it was, its lovely tones were enough to make her snap out of her stupor and to turn in the other direction. The sound distracted the demon as well.

A man stood there, after the lights had faded away, dressed in ordinary clothes. Michelle blinked at the sight before recalling something she had heard about before but never given much thought. He was one of those Whitelighters. Before she could react, the demon recovered quickly and was preparing to spit acid at her. She clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable only to be surrounded by those familiar chimes and lights.

In an instant, she disappeared from where she had stood before.

The acid ate away at the floor. The demon turned its head back at the spot where the man had been and snarled, furious that it had been cheated of its prey. It sniffed the air and flashed after them.

* * *

"Here we are!" Sheila caroled as they pulled into the driveway of the Morrises' home. It was lovely, red-brick, two-story house at the corner. Though unlike the Halliwells' Victorian house, this one was just as quaint.

Darryl said nothing as he got out of the car, watching as Sheila reached to the backseat and unbuckled Wyatt from his chair. She set him down on the ground, taking his hand.

"Robbie isn't home today," said Sheila as she followed Darryl up to the house. "He's away at his grandparents' place with his cousins."

The place was a lot less cluttered than the manor itself. While there were certainly toys, books and crayons lying around, it wasn't as messy as at the manor. Robbie's toys were all piled in a corner, out of the way. His crayons and books were on the coffee table. There was a yellow jacket flung over the back of a chair and forgotten; a pair of sneakers lay by the legs of the chair. Robbie's red backpack sat crumpled on the sofa forlornly, the zipper halfway unzipped, the books peeking out from the gap.

It was a typical family home - three bedrooms, two-and-a-half baths, and even a white picket fence. It was the kind of house Piper had never failed to admire for its normalcy whenever she came to chat with Sheila and to let Wyatt play while Darryl was at work. Wyatt was familiar with this place, having been here many times. His memory was remarkable as he could recall where things used to be or where the bathroom was or what the color of the wallpaper had been last year.

"Would you like a drink, Wyatt? Or maybe a cookie?" Sheila was asking.

Wyatt shook his head. "No, thank you."

"All right. You can play with Robbie's toys in here." Sheila ruffled his hair fondly before heading to the kitchen.

Wyatt sat down on the sofa, looking over the books and coloring pages on the table. He hardly ever indulged anymore in coloring, even at home. The games he played with his brother to entertain themselves had once included coloring books. That was until he brought the unicorn in the book to life. He was now forbidden from ever using a coloring book or going near one. Their games were now orbing around the house in a game of tag or hide-and-go-seek. The orbing annoyed his mother but it amused his aunts.

"Uncle Darryl?" he said, after a beat.

Darryl had been about to follow Sheila to the kitchen but paused, half-turning. "Yes, Wyatt?"

"Why do you hate Mommy and Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige?"

It was an innocent question. That was all. But Darryl froze, unable to think of anything. The question shocked him. He didn't think the boy would have noticed the avoidance or hear about it from his family. He doubted that Piper or anyone could have talked about it in front of him.

And yet, Wyatt was looking him with all the solemnity that he always found rather unnerving on a face of a toddler.

"I... don't hate them, Wyatt," he managed to answer.

"But you don't want to come to Chris's party," Wyatt said, giving him a puzzled look. "You don't come over to visit us anymore. Don't you like us?"

Darryl was astonished. He came into the living room, kneeling down to eye level with the boy. For all the understanding he had in magic and everything around him, Wyatt was still very much a child. And right now, he was looking at Darryl with all the bewilderment of a child who looked like he had just been told he wasn't liked.

"Of course I do, little guy," Darryl said. "You and your brother both."

"But why don't you come over to our house anymore? How come you never want to talk to Mommy or Daddy?" Wyatt persisted.

Darryl paused, trying to collect his thoughts on how to answer those questions. The best way was often to speak to Wyatt as if he was a small adult instead of treating him like a child.

"Wyatt, I don't hate your mom or dad," began Darryl haltingly. "I don't hate your aunts either. But they - your Aunt Phoebe and Paige - did something a couple years ago. You see, it got me into trouble, and while they helped me out of the trouble, I was just too angry and afraid to trust them anymore."

"Like the trouble Chris and I got into when we stole the cookies?" Wyatt asked.

"Weeeell, no." Darryl couldn't help it; he chuckled, reaching out and ruffling the blond hair. "It was bigger trouble than taking a cookie from a cookie jar."

"But you like us, don't you, Uncle Darryl?" Wyatt blinked up at him, the solemn expression replaced by a hesitant smile. One that said he was unsure and a little confused. "Daddy said that people shouldn't stay mad for long. He said that if they're sorry, then we should say okay."

"Your dad told you that?" Darryl asked softly.

"He told Mommy," said Wyatt in a matter of fact voice.

"Your dad's a wise man," said Darryl absently. "And he's right. I'm not angry at your parents or your aunts. I'm just... You're right; your father's right. They did apologize and I held on for so long to that anger that I forgot what it is to forgive."

It amazed Sheila that someone like Wyatt had made Darryl saw the error of his ways. Perhaps, Leo had known what would happen when he asked them to take Wyatt. It was about time for the nonsense to stop.

Wyatt simply smiled.

* * *

"Leeeeoooo!" Piper hollered, growing madder and madder by the minute.

"Forget it, Piper," Phoebe said from her spot on the sofa. "He probably put us on mute."

"He's got a thing coming for him if he thinks he can put me on mute!" Piper snapped crossly. She prepared to yell again when Leo suddenly orbed in. She jumped back in surprise.

He wasn't alone.

There was a young woman and a child with him. Both looked like they had just run through a hurricane. They looked terrified, as if they'd just seen a ghost or worse.

"What? Who?" Piper stuttered, eyes growing round as wading pools, disbelief on her face.

Paige simply goggled at the sight. Phoebe opened her mouth to say something but something flashed into the attic.

It was the same demon that had taken Chris earlier, and it looked even madder than before.

And pandemonium struck.

TBC...


End file.
